


Mechanical Animals

by Lyson



Category: Death Note
Genre: Death, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Gunshot Wounds, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-30
Updated: 2012-11-30
Packaged: 2017-11-19 22:38:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/578374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyson/pseuds/Lyson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mello discovers that there's more to Matt than just the mechanical.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mechanical Animals

* * *

There were things people didn’t know about Mail Jeevas…or Matt as he was better known.

Matt wasn’t much of a talker, he didn’t chat or make small talk, he had conversations ranging between six to seven sentences and usually got bored and brushed things off to return to a computer, game or nap he’d been either doing or considering doing.

Matt was also smarter than he let on and often downplayed his abilities in favour of remaining out of the spot light, he didn’t like attention of any kind.

Matty wasn’t a fighter but he wasn’t a lover either.

Matt didn’t like silence, he preferred loud noises, music, television or games, drag racing, crowded places. He blended.

Matt did have a pretty twisted sense of humour though he rarely made jokes or commented.

These were the things that Mello knew about Matt, the things he believed made up the red haired, lean built and laid back teenager that had been a friend of his since he was eleven years old.

If he didn’t count the four years passed since Mello had left Wammy’s, he and Matt had been friends for five years, six if he counted the most recent year that they’d been back together.

Mello had been a loud and hateful child at Wammy’s yet he’d also been extremely deceptive and manipulative.

But he had since changed his image completely to match his personality and was a particularly dangerous and feared person at his 20 years of age. Desensitized, violent and unpredictable. Fearless…of death and life.

The difference between loud, vulgar Mello from Wammy’s House to the vicious, dangerous and constantly over heating temper in Mello of the mafia was vast and overwhelming to most.

He exuded intimidation and promises of pain and suffering, evidence of it worn over his flesh as if he’s skin had been removed to reveal ugly Mello beneath his previously perfect face.

He was not the same. He didn’t think the same…want the same…breathe the same.

Matt on the other hand seemed to be almost exactly the same.

He was a picture of emptiness and disinterest in general existence, there was no notable rise in his temper at any time, no broken feelings or bleeding veins below the surface of fair skin that was haemorrhaging away until he died or killed. His green eyes though tired and usually dilated were not tormented, just vacant.

Mello’s entire face and posture screamed anger, his body was a perfectly honed collection of muscle beneath smooth skin and disfigured skin. He walked like he would break through the ground and hell would rise up underneath him, whilst everyone else walked round him like they were on glass with bare feet.

He demanded attention with his presence and his smirk always playing over his face, his eyes amused by every person like they were going to be the next punch line to an awful joke that only he found funny.  His eyes…they lied. Beautiful and clear blue…they hid every pained memory or future plan to hurt. Dangerous eyes that made Mello so pretty.

His heavy boots clipped and sounded heavily when he walked.

Matt’s sneakers scuffed of squeaked.

Mello tongue played over his teeth, sometimes chocolate laced, sometimes alcohol laced.

Matt’s lips were chapped and skilled around a cigarette that he was hardly ever without.

Mello would walk straight up and was always secretly daring the devil with a smirk.

Matt would be slouching with his hands in his pockets and his mind apparently everywhere and nowhere.

Matt was the same. Baggy shirts, tight jeans, boots…laces, chain and accessories. But no sense of co ordination.

Mello was always in pristine dress form, no loose fitting clothes or faded jeans, belts buckles...leather.

Since Matt had showed up in Los Angeles with a red Camaro, back seat full of equipment and a cigarette in his mouth – although it was new to Mello – it fit. Matt had been about as active and talkative as Mello remembered in the time that passed. He’d set up, he settled down and he asked the relevant questions about what Mello was doing and how he could help. Mello never thought he was making a mistake when he’d tracked Matt down…and he didn’t regret it a year later.

People back at Wammy’s had always insisted Matt was like a dog to Mello and the blonde had never argued…

…but it had never been that way. People didn’t know that Matt didn’t always listen to Mello, the blonde himself had soon realised that the only time Matt did what he said was when it made sense to the red head and it just so happened that he and Matt saw things a lot a like, so they agreed often. He also knew that if he punched Matt in the face, he was getting hit back just as hard.

Matt was limited to it though, if Mello swore him he never reacted, if Mello shoved him around childishly or spat insults at him – as a child and as an adult – he’d always been indifferent and unresponsive and so Mello understood why people drew the conclusions about him being a lap dog.

But Mello had always known better.

Matt was no dog, he was just simple to please.

Mello was not easy to please. Not as a child and not as a Mafioso.

If Matt had noticed the difference in his personalities before and then, the red head hadn’t said anything but then again Mello didn’t expect him to, Matt was never one for complicating things with debates and opinions.

Even if Mello was no longer round soft faced and androgynous. Horribly scarred.

No one questioned Mello’s masculinity any more, not with the definition of his boyish and angular face, not by all the visible taut muscled flesh and obvious male bits the leather revealed and yet didn’t explain about his sexual preferences.

Mello respected that Matt never asked. Mello himself had never been curious about Matt’s own preferences.

Some things they didn’t need to know.

Even though Mello wore black leather, had a burn scar spanning his left side from face to mid thigh, he wore a gold cross and was strapped with three guns at any given moment, Matt happily never bothered to once mention any of it. He had asked about the scar but had not pushed for more info after Mello offered little detail about the explosion needed to escape the police. He asked even less questions about Kira.

Matt was not a paradox or a complicated guy and Mello believed he knew him, as well as he cared to know him that is.

They were friends.

They’d live with one another and die for one another.

But they didn’t need to understand each other personally.

An unspoken understanding of a different kind.

Mello would protect Matt and Matt would sacrifice everything to help Mello.

This was how Mihael Keehl saw his relationship with Mail Jeevas.

It was a bond, a loyal and deeply imbedded promise of forever with one another.

For blood or worse.

For business not pleasure.

For trust in someone.

For someone to live and die for.

For comfortable silence.

They were not innocent children or naïve young men. The only things they understood were lies and façade’s.

Mello knew Matt would die with him…for him.

_‘You were beautiful, looking perfect…the day that we lost our souls…’_

 

Matt never did seek more.

Mello never considered it either.

Even if each other was all the other believed in or believed they needed.

They settled for love of a mechanical kind.

Mello had never been mechanical but Matt had never been emotional.

They were Mechanical and Animal.

Mechanical Animals.

 

_‘Maybe we weren’t so human…but if we cry…we will rust…’_

 

Mello was a hand grenade that never stopped exploding.

Matt was automatic and as hollow as the ‘o’ in God.

The god Mello claimed to believe in and Matt didn’t believe in.

You could trust them to never be trusted except to each other.

He’d never been more than Mello’s confidant and ally…

He’d never been more than the only man Mello trusted with his secrets and life…

He’d never been more than Matty who always knew more than he pretended to…

He’d always been Matt…the guy who Mello saw through eyes of reality.

Until the night that Mello discovered that he didn’t know Matt.

Not like he thought he did.

Not even at all.

There was noise at the time…the dull drum of the television, music from an old radio. The noise tuned out by Mello in preference of the sound of his mind, clarity and calculation.

Matt sat across from him, in a single old sofa with one leg across the other and his mind absorbed in his handheld as he sat back, white ear phones trailing from his ears to the game as if the noise around him was not enough, but Matt was as concentrated as Mello, just on different things.

The dank apartment was the place that Mello had chosen to take refuge in after Matt had arrived and he’d skipped out of the mafia, things were getting heated and Mello couldn’t afford a full body of people who might fuck up and narrowing it down to Matt on the technical side and he on the physical made sense. Two highly skilled people in favour of 40 morons made sense when it came to Kira. The less liabilities the better.

But leaving the mafia came with danger and Mello had understood that, he just hadn’t expected it to catch up to him after a year of nothing.

He was just swallowing down a piece of half melted chocolate when the dull lights in the run down apartment flickered and went out, casting them into darkness since it was after 1 am.

Neither moved.

Minutes passed and while it may have been a blackout, both of them were not inclined to believe so.

As their eyes adjusted to the darkness they looked at one another.

Matt had put his game in the side of couch and slipped his goggles and headphones off, Mello’s blue eyes focused on his green, darting to the gun on the table next to the radio between them and back to Matt who nodded subtly,

Mello assumed Matt knew how to use one because he’d discovered that the red head owned one after some months of living together.

Mello’s own gun was on him in the front of his loosely laced leather pants, always fully loaded.

Nothing moved and their breathing couldn’t be heard.

Ten minutes passed and the light’s flickered back on.

Mello’s shoulders relaxed a fraction and he stood up after placing his gun from his pants next to his other on the table, he starting to unlace his pants as he walked from the room,

“I’m gonna take a shower.” He informed and as expected Matt didn’t respond, probably already back into his game as far as Mello knew.

What Mello didn’t know was that Matt had noticed something…the window behind the couch Mello had been in was opened.

He truly hadn’t expected to walk into the bedroom and have something come over his head and against his throat.

It was tight and thin and cutting his flesh, Mello took note of that first as he tensed his neck against the wire, not making more than a small breathy sound when the wire had fixed around his neck.

Within seconds he glanced around the room, seeing two more guys and recognizing them as men from the mafia, advancing on him.

Mello grit his teeth and he felt the wire cut his flesh and he was unable to breath, the man was not expecting Mello’s strength as the blonde grounded himself and pushed backwards, throwing his attacker off balance and into the corner of the wall behind them. The man grunted and Mello snapped his head back against the others, causing it to bounce off the wall and the wire loosened fractionally.

But one of the other men pulled out a knife and was coming straight at Mello, he was just getting some leverage to kick the advancing man when a gun sounded.

Blue eyes widened and blood pumped furiously through Mello’s veins…adrenalin and excitement. Gun fire always got him going. He watched as bloo0d and brain matter splattered across the third man as the bullet forced itself into the knife wielders cranium from the other side. It was a dead aim through the temple and the bullet careened out as the bulky man dropped like lead.

Without waiting Mello shut his reddening eyes and jerked the now stunned man behind him back into the wall again, head butting him harder so the back of Mello’s own head throbbed and the wire went slack enough for Mello to take a choked breath.

He elbowed the guy right before turning around punching him straight in the larynx with a full fist.

The man grabbed his throat, sliding to the floor and the wire was tangled between his fingers, Mello grabbed it and crouched down, wrapping the wire round the guys neck twice while his one knee pinned one of the arms and the other dug into the mans sternum.

Like he was tightening a shoelace, Mello snapped the pieces in opposite directions so he cut off the air supply, the guy was sputtering and Mello was sneering, half way grinning. A second bullet went off and rung in Mello’s ears at the close range, Matt had shot the guy in his free arm as it had been reaching to the knife which was out of reach anyway.

Hence the reason Mello hadn’t worried, but Matt had taken care of it anyway.

Mello glanced at Matt as he pulled tighter on the wire ends, feeling the man struggling less and he saw Matt had one of the guns trained of the third guy who was wide eyed and stained with his colleagues blood.

The second gun, the one with Mello’s name engraved into it was in his relaxed hand to Mello’s side.

The blonde looked down to watch the asshole take his last sputtering breathes as he spoke,

“Mafia…can’t trust the fuckers.” He mumbles.

“You betrayed us…” the last man pointlessly retorted while watching the gun in Matt’s hand.

Mello watched his victim go limp and he stood up, his hands red and white from the wire digging into his flesh from his tight grip he’d had on it, he assumed his neck would look similar from the near strangulation.

He took his gun from Matt’s gloved hand – when he’d put them on Mello didn’t know – but he didn’t think on it and instead put a bullet in the head of the man he’d just strangled to be sure he was dead.

He cleared his hurt throat a bit and focused back on the living one,

“Three…that’s an insult. I almost feel like carving ‘fuck you’ into your forehead and sending you back as a message.” Mello grinned, his pretty eyes glinting with malice.

“Your fucked you stupid faggot…!!” the thin man spat with anger and hate in his eyes, “…they’ll kill you, your not gonna live to see tomorrow!” he was fearful as well and Mello tilted his head,

“You just called me a faggot?” he blinked.

“You are a fag-!” Mello shot him straight through his eye and he stumbled backwards and dropped dead.

“Dirty fuck.” Mello mumbled.

He took a moment before he looked at Matt who had put the gun into his pants and was lighting a cigarette, not looking phased by the fact he’d just killed a man or that Mello had.

This was the first question Mello wanted to ask to which he couldn’t guess the answer, had Matt killed before or was he just so vacant of feeling that taking life didn’t bother him?

He didn’t have a chance though because the door in the apartment was banged against roughly and after a second heavy thud, the sound of wood cracking and door giving let the two young men know that there was more where that came from.

“The fire escape…that’s how these guys got in.” Matt informed shortly, forming the words around the cigarette as smoke filtered upward over the goggles covering his eyes again.

“We need to get out.”

They heard noises of boots entering the short hall that lead to the single bedroom and they stepped backward both ways, out of sight from the hall either side of the doorway.

Mello glanced at the two shitty single beds in the room, scanning for a bag so they could get ammo into it and more guns and weapons.

Mello met Matt’s gaze through the goggles, eyes lazy and his cigarette burned half way as the red head held the gun in one firm hand and he tipped his head upward in question of what Mello was thinking.

Mello gestured with his eyes to the bag near Matt’s bed and then soundlessly tapped the weapon he held and Matt nodded, he was on the open side of the room and Mello was behind the door side so Matt had more room to move.

Whoever was in the short passage was being very cautious and with three dead bodies it was visibly un wise to come rushing in so Mello had to have patience, they would come to him eventually.

He heard nothing for a while and frowned, glancing at Matt who had pulled a trunk out from underneath his bed and was packing guns and boxes of bullets, a few knives into the black bag.

Matt stood up and glanced at Mello before walking to the window behind him, they were 4 stories up, he pushed the window open and glanced out and to the left to where he’d be able to see the fire escape along the building side.

He leaned back in and shook his head once, Mello had known but was still glad it was confirmed they wouldn’t make it out of the easy window. He was just about to consider going out shooting when a small click was heard and his eyes dropped to the thud on the carpeted bedroom floor.

The grenade rolled under Mello’s bed and the blonde’s blood rushed through his body at an automatic speed, he’d been burned in an explosion once, never again.

“Matt!” he shouted but the red head was already coming passed him with the bag slung across his shoulder, heavy and probably weighing him down.

Four gun shots, Mello heard as he followed Matt out, breaking into a run back to the small lounge as two men dropped down up ahead. They skidded into the lounge and the sound of random gun fire made their ears ring, Mello was used to it and after he jumped over a couch he shot one of the last two guys in the leg, hearing them shout out in pain.

There was no room for playing skilful games of duck and shoot, there were more where they came from and Mello and Matt were in a small space, cornered and dangerous, they needed time to strategize, they had to get out.

Matt had managed not to stumble or got shot, although nearly grazed-  and he tossed the bag through the window so it landed heavily on the wrought iron staircase, then he jumped through, glancing back briefly to be sure Mello was not more than a meter behind.

By the time Mello was through the window, Matt was a staircase down and stumbling with the added weight.

Question two, when was Matt the one to go guns blazing into danger? That was usually Mello’s thing.

No time for it though, the sound of people getting onto the staircase above as it vibrated under Mello’s boots and ricocheting bullets sent him skipping steps. Thank God for tight leather, his pants stuck to his body like second skin.

He caught up to Matt three floors down and one to go when the grenade exploded and rocked the stairs, blowing out the front of the apartment facing the street and cars screeched and some night lifers screamed.

A few hot pieces of glass and brick caught Mello’s bare shoulders and arms since he wore a half opened leather vest but he ignored it and managed to keep his balance as the stairs quaked at the explosion, creaking against the sudden shock.

He was glad at times like this his pants were so tight since they hadn’t fallen off of his waist.

Matt hit the side railing off balance – bruising no doubt-  and with his stomach against the railing he tossed the heavy bag down, Mello barely took a breath when the bag hit a man below heavily on his head and he fell with the bag on top of him.

Matt jumped over the railing and landed with a small painful roll one floor down in the side alley, he wasn’t exactly pakur material and nor was Mello, but it had to be done, Mello followed automatically and hit the ground in a roll at the same time as Matt pistol whipped the guy who had got up and was about to lunge at Matt.

Blood managed to catch Mello’s leather waist coat and a piece of a tooth ticked against the paved ground before Matt brought a sneakered foot down on the man’s knee heavily – cry of pain - and followed through with another kick to his face once he was on the ground.

Question three was pretty obvious…apparently Matt **was** a fighter?

And he was taking action…while Mello was following?

Shouts were heard just above and Mello, feeling angrier than was necessary looked up and with a snap of his arm he shot twice and caught the single guy in his back and side so he fell down the steps and hit heavily against the railing Matt and Mello had jumped over a floor up.

He took deep breaths and looked back at the blood glistening in the dull moon light over his tight leather.

Matt was looking at him for direction as expected.

Mello narrowed his eyes and walked closer to Matt,

“We need to lose them, find a place they wont look…where’s your car?”

“Parked in the building.” Matt’s cigarette had been lost on the stairs at some point and he licked his dry lips.

Mello’s eyes looked over Matt’s shoulder when he heard sirens, there was flames and smoke coming out of the front of the building, bathing them in flickering orange and a crowd was forming.

“I don’t fucking have time for this!” Mello exploded and kicked the body on the floor, ribs cracked under the impact and Matt remained quiet, slightly out of breath with a bag of guns at his feet, glancing at the alley entrance dully.

“I have to be focussing on Kira not these cocksuckers!!” he kicked again then spun around to Matt who was watching the front of the building as the sirens got louder.

“We have no ride, my bike is up there too…” Mello added still as aggressively but quieter.

Matt looked back at him and pulled his goggles down, blinking his darkened eyes and looking down the opposite end of the alley to the fence making it a dead end but not impossible to get over to the back of another building.

“We need to get away from here, Mello.”  
Mello knew the cops wouldn’t find anything in their apartment except some unmarked guns, encrypted password –self destructing- laptops and their vehicles were unmarked too, he knew they might get impounded but they could get them back with relative ease. Like bribery or grand theft auto.

Cops were all dirty, especially in LA.

“We need to get across town to the docks.” Mello started walking into the alley and he heard Matt behind him after a moment, probably getting the bag ready before following.

Scaling the fence was easy enough and once over they walked casually, still looking mostly inconspicuous despite Mello’s leather, he’d tied his pants again. Matt lit up another cigarette as they walked in silence and Mello glanced at the red head as they rounded a corner five blocks down from the smoking building, streets empty that time of the morning.

They stopped at some point and reloaded their guns, Matt smoking yet again as he loaded two guns and put them in his pants, one in the back and one in the front. Mello strapped on two knives, without his holsters or trench coat he could only keep two guns as well.

Once they got to the docks and into their container they’d be fine.

After tossing the bag of what they couldn’t carry into a large dumpster they started walking again, Matt was rolling a bullet round in his gloved hand as he removed a cigarette from his lips and blew smoke out, his long sleeve black shirt covering his guns but Mello’s were visible.

The streets down near the docks were deserted because it was dangerous at night, so neither was concerned.

But it was still a while before they’d reach the docks, Matt mumbled something about blood on his sneakers and Mello ignored him in favour of playing over the evening’s events in his head.

Seething and driven instinctively to want more blood, no one came after Mello…they didn’t live to tell about it. It had been obvious that the men who came to get him had assumed he was alone. In the dark they either hadn’t seen Matt or just assumed the second person would be an easy kill because all three had targeted him. Even when running out, they’d shot mainly at him.

Yes, he was their target, their threat.

And yet Matt had taken most of them out…he glanced at the red head who looked anything but dangerous and bad ass.

“Something wrong?” Matt mumbled and met his gaze.

Mello shook his head and pushed his loose blonde hair back, questions burning on his tongue.

In the empty streets the sound of a car was obvious…but the sound of a car at high speed and coming closer was even more noticeable. They turned around at the same time and saw a black car with its headlights turned off driving straight toward them. A man leaned out of the window and Mello shoved Matt to get down.

Machine guns were a bitch.

They ran off the road and between the small run down houses in downtown, running low in the dark, Matt hooked some washing off someone’s line by accident and hashed it off himself as he extracted his gun and pulled his goggles down, they leaned between two buildings and heard the car screech to a halt on the street.

Matt looked like he was getting irritable.

Mello grit his teeth against the pain in his leg, either there was a bullet in it or it had grazed his leg when they’d run. Not the first time he’d been shot…and it wouldn’t be the last.

“I’m gonna kill who ever this new cunt boss is…”

Matt found it in himself to laugh quietly,

“If you had stuck around after that Rod dude got killed you would have been first in line…guess this guy wants you dead. Competition and all that.”

“First time I get to be first and the guy wants to kill me…” Mello managed to smirk as he clutched his gun.

“No one is going to kill you.” Matt seemed very sure of himself.

Mello gave him a lame side look of expectancy and Matt rolled his eyes and leaned heavier against the wall, unaware of Mello’s pained bullet wound,

“That asshole’s bound to underestimate you, like everyone who doesn’t know you does. He’ll send no more than 10, maybe a few more, men after you. We’ve taken down…I think 5 or six…” he said with a vague wave of his free hand as he looked at the open end of the buildings to his side, “…so there shouldn’t be too many more. After that though, if he tries again…he might up the stakes.”

“I’ll cut his throat before he gets the chance…” Mello grit his teeth against a throb in his thigh.

Matt nodded his agreement, never against Mello’s violence and until that night, Mello hadn’t known he was capable of it himself.

They looked back along the path between the houses and heard someone getting closer, Mello’s eye twitched from where they hid low in the dark and he glanced forward from behind some building bricks to see a figure sneaking closer a few meters a way. With a smirk he angled his arm and the weapon discreetly along the bricks and aimed.

Matt clutched his gun too, once the first shots were fired, the others would come running.

Mello let off two shots, one in the chest and one in the stomach.

Shouts and then more movement.

Someone came shooting and they pressed their backs against the wall, Matt leaned his arm behind Mello and got a good grip on a brick with his gloved hand, getting more onto his knees, he chucked the brick forward and upwards.

After a moment a sound of pain was heard and Mello was aiming again.

One shot.

Two down so far.

“That car was a four door, 5 men tops…” Mello mumbled.

“Yup.” Matt chimed almost cheerily.

Then there was machine gun fire again near them and they had to move quickly.

They pushed themselves off the wall and ran the rest of the way between the houses, coming out in a small back yard and jumping over a half broken short fence. They were back in the open road and then all that happened was gun fire.

Mello grounded his feet and half sneered while grinning, making a sound of anger as he raised his guns and pulled the triggers, over and over until his mags were empty and his aim had paid off –fearless of getting shot and oblivious to the pain when adrenalin was pumping through him at such a rate – he rarely missed, if ever. From what he could see, they were all down.

His eyes darkened and hands shook from the adrenalin but he dropped one gun and clutched his side after he dropped to his knees. He looked for Matt and spotted him a few meters away, he only had one gun left in hand but he was still standing, not straight, but alive.

Mello’s ears rung heavily from all the gun fire as he looked over Matt’s form, there was blood running down his arm, he’d been shot.

But he seemed to know now that Mello had been shot and was bleeding through pale fingers from his side.

His green eyes turned dangerous when he noticed this, something Mello hadn’t witnessed before and he crossed the space to the two men on the ground a few meters away.

Matt grabbed the one who was still alive up from the ground slightly and raised the butt of his gun, bringing it down on the man’s face.

Over and over…

Full blows landing against his nose and cheek bones and Mello heard the crunches of facial bone breaking under the force of Matt’s hits. Mello ran his tongue over his bottom lip as he watched his friend crush the bone of the man’s face mercilessly and driven by protectiveness that Mello didn’t know the red head had in him, he couldn’t see Matt’s expression or hear very clearly, he just watched.

When Matt was done he stood up and shot the body, turning his gun to the other one and clicking the trigger but the gun was empty and Matt seemingly frustrated kicked the man in the head quite severely, shoulders square and chest rising and falling heavily. Mello watched him come closer, flexing his gloved hands and he fell to his knees in front of Mello,

“Are you okay…?” he asked and placed his hand over Mello’s concealing his flesh wound.

“Yeah…it might have clipped a rib but its surface.”

“Your leg?”

“There’s a bullet in it.” Mello grinned and his eyes searched Matt’s face, he wanted to see more of whoever this new person was but nothing reflected in Matt’s face, there was blood splattered across his forehead quiet prettily though.

He seemed frustrated and like he wanted to fuss, Mello brushed him off,

“I’m fine…we need to get away from here. We can’t go to the docks and risk them following us.”

Matt glanced around and then stood up, offering Mello a hand so the blonde could get up easily and he took it, grimacing slightly as he got to his feet.

“I saw a car round the corner…lets go.” he was saying as he grabbed Mello’s guns off the ground and his other one, awkwardly carrying four guns as they walked away from the car and dead bodies around a corner.

Matt walked straight up to an old shitty car and used one of the guns to break the window, he tossed the weapons inside and opened the door.

Moving the guns to the back seat he got into the driver side and leaned down.

A moment later the car started, Matt sat back up and looked at the passenger side when Mello knocked on the window.

* * *

 

 

 

After dumping the car several miles away from where they’d picked it up, they walked through a few back roads, Mello’s bleeding was less and he was limping but otherwise un-phased despite blood loss.

They came to a ratty motel, just what they’d been looking for and Mello looked over their appearances, they were obviously not in good condition and Matt didn’t seem to care.

“I got a few hundred on me, I’ll get a room.” He was flexing his fingers on the arm he was shot in.

Mello just nodded and sat down on a short wall near the entrance, his eyes looking around but his mind solely focused on Matt. He seemed like so much more now.

A few minutes later he was back and holding a key and half a bottle of whiskey.

...........................................................

The motel room consisted of one old bed and some other shoddy furniture and a dully lit bathroom, but it’d do, Mello had lived in worse. He sat down on a wooden chair and glanced at Matt who closed the dirty faded curtains and latched the door.

He pulled his shirt up over his head and tossed it onto the bed, Mello’s gaze moved over his slightly toned upper body, blood was moving slowly and half dried down to his arm from the wound.

It was shallow and the bullet was visible.

Matt was standing and assessing his wound, the whiskey on the small bedside table, he walked to the bed and grabbed a pillow, pulling the case off.

Mello stood up on a pained leg and slipped one of his knives out, Matt came over to him and took it, cutting the case into strips of material.

Mello was content to sit in pain and deal with his pained wounds, but Matt was mechanical and needed to fix it.

To Mello’s surprise he abandoned his wound and pushed Mello to sit down a bit heavily. It was respect, he wouldn’t treat Mello as a fragile bitch, but he’d help him.

Mello just watched him pull his gloves off and drop them onto the floor, tucking red strands of hair behind his ears, Matt’s pale hands assessed Mello’s thigh, an open hole in the leather.

The bullet was deep and Mello was expecting what happened next, uninterested in wetting the floor, Matt wet his fingers with the alcohol and dug them into Mello’s leg.

A stifled cry of pain, Mello’s neck tendons standing aggressively as he clenched his jaw and silenced his pain, Matt’s fingers not going slowly or gently, the faster the better.

Ten times worse than losing his virginity. Maybe a hundred.

He pulled the blood stained gold coloured bullet out with a lick of his lips and glanced at Mello, again surprising the blonde when he tucked some of Mello’s hair behind his ear and mumbled that the alcohol would sting.

“I fucking know that twat!” was Mello’s automatic and expected response.

In truth he was shaking on the inside from the pain and his skin was tingling from Matt’s sweet contact.

He’d never looked at him as anything more than loyal and a very close friend.

Why was his heart beating faster at such a slight and plutonic gesture of comfort?

It was probably just the tension making him act weird.

He grit his teeth and made a deep strangled growl when Matt poured alcohol over and into the wound. He’d swiped the bottle off the counter when the lady had gone to get a key, apparently she hadn’t noticed it was gone because she had already been drunk from the other half of the bottle.

After tying a piece of pillow case round his leather clad thigh covering the wound, Matt ran some alcohol over Mello side and he stifled another cry, cussing under his breathe with death threats to the bastards who shot him.

Mello sat quietly readjusting his vest and watched as Matt did his own wound, underneath his finger nails were caked with dry blood from Mello’s wounds as he saw to pulling the shallow bullet out of his arm.

When he had cleaned it Mello stood up, ignoring his pain and took the piece of material, tying it round Matt’s arm slowly as the red head sat on the edge of the bed. His eyes taking in the way Matt’s skin seemed to prinkle, either from the contact of Mello’s fingers –he doubted it- or from the fact that there was other people’s blood on his face, which he was trying to rub off with a deep frown.

“I paid the lady at the front extra, for discretion.” He mumbled and Mello blinked and his blue eyes became thoughtful as he finished tying the knot. He let his cold hands run over Matt’s shoulders as he stood beside him and stepped so he was between Matt’s legs. Matt wasn’t tense as Mello rubbed his shoulders…their kinship always left them in close proximity.This was different, Mello was burning with a new interest in Matt.

The power behind those green eyes was vibrating through his body…this Matt was Mello’s perfect match.

Matt felt the deeper strokes of Mello’s fingers and he looked up into obviously lustful blue eyes.

Matt’s expression didn’t change when Mello –somewhat painfully, straddled his waist and ran his hands through Matt’s hair, his smirk turning into a smile as their noses brushed.

Matt made no moves or show that this bothered him.

Mello pressed his mouth to Matt’s and felt them pucker against his own, he tilted his head and kissed Matt shortly but deeper, Matt responded.

There was no need for words.

Matt was never much of a talker.

Mello had always been demanding.

He unbuckled Matt’s pants and Matt’s fingers loosened his pants laces easily, fingers slowly opening the tight leather front of Mello’s pants as they kissed. They moved, Matt laying back and Mello on an elbow leaning above him.

Matt’s hands touched his face, taking it in...the damaged flesh and deviant smile.

Matt smirked…he loved it.

Their items of clothing came sliding off with some grimaces and hisses of pain until they were naked.

Matt gripped blonde hair and tasted blood and chocolate…Mello tasted the bitterness of nicotine and he moaned.

Their kisses were rough as was the penetration…Matt was not inexperienced, he proved this by topping Mello with ease, Mello was guilty of needing it, he gave in quite easily.

Mello’s eyes shut tightly and he pressed his head back into the old mattress…Matt pressed firmly into him.

Mello’s spine tingled and Matt smiled and bit his lip.

Inside of Mello was where they both wanted Matt to be.

Matt moved inside and Mello’s breath hitched.

There was no hesitation or uncertainty in the sex but it was not violent or forced, they kissed and touched each other in places and ways that they’d never imagined doing. It was intimate, with love of a more powerful kind, drawn together by day after day of hard times…dangerous times…life threatening times.

Mello moaned.

Matt moved faster...

“Harder…” Mello breathed and clutched his back.

Matt thrust harder.

Mello tensed around him.

Matt moaned at the heated tight friction.

Literal pain mingling with pleasure, frustration and need.

Their mouths met, tongues played as they tasted each other.

They shared grins and breaths…sweat and saliva…blood and pain.

There were no boundaries anymore.

Matt’s eyes shut, teeth bared at the pain in his arm as he moved faster and moaned when Mello’s body reacted.

Mello’s body arched as he felt Matt go deeper…every thrust was precise and pleasurable.

Matt held on and didn’t break his concentration.  Mechanical.

He felt the tension and warmth in his loins…close…

Mello reached it first…he moaned and let himself go, falling into his pleasure.  Animal.

Tight heat clenched around Matt and the red head following the blonde’s climax with his own…

It felt right. And Mello wondered how he’d never been with Matt this way before.

Firm trusted contact.

With the one he trusted above all and everyone else.

Mail Jeevas was nothing like Mello had thought.

He was better.

Moments later they laid naked side by side in ringing silence staring at the cracked ceiling thinking over the night and their near death experiences as well as their newly bleeding wounds and throbbing pain in their exhausted but sated bodies.

Mello almost smiled and Matt fell asleep.

 

 

 

 


End file.
